Lifedrawings
by Chaos' Immortal
Summary: Omi's being distracted from his homework by thoughts of a certain brunette! Ken x Omi Shounen ai!


**Warning:** This fic contains yaoi (boy/boy love) so if that's not your cup-o-tea, bye! Oh and please don't read it just to flame me, I mean come on! Where's the point in that? If you flame, I shall laugh. Loudly. And you will hear it. And it will haunt your dreams for all eternity. BUT . . . if you do like this sorta thing please stick around and give it a go!  
  
**Disclaimer:** GOD! IT'S NOT FAIR!!! WHY, OH, WHY DOESN'T KEN HIDAKA BELONG TO ME?!?!? (people begin to back away slowly).   
**Spoilers:** Yes, so beware . . .  
**Pairing:** Ken/Omi (oh yeah! )  
**Author:** Me! Chaos' Immortal  
**Archive:** Tell me where, but I'm happy to contribute. There can never be enough Ken/Omi fanficcies!!! Everyone: (rolling their eyes) There she goes again...­--  
**Warning (2):** My first fanfiction that I've posted . . . BUT WAIT! Do not leave yet. I have a couple of things to say. Firstly, I love Weiss Kreuz. It is the greatest anime eva. (alongside Fruits Basket (yay!), Gravitation, Evangelion, Angel Sanctuary, and many others I have failed to metion here.) Secondly, Ken Hidaka is amazingly hot! I wuv him. huggles her Ken and Omi plushies Omi is too kawaii! I wuv him 2! Thirdly, I appologise right now for the OOCness and fluffiness.  
  
_bounces happily_ kool, now that's outta the way . . . For those great and wonderful people who are attempting my fic, thanx! Enjoy and please review!   
  
**_Lifedrawings -_** **By Chaos' Immortal**  
  
Dirt. There was always dirt.  
  
Aya stared stonily at the ground, broom in hand, contemplating over the earthy brown substance sprinkled all about the floor of the Koneko flower shop. No matter how clean he attempted to keep the store, it just seemed to keep coming back. The hordes of endless female customers tracked it in, Omi would contribute to the mess whenever he carted the potting mix around, even Yohji brought it in, although he never owned up to it. And Ken. You didn't even want to get Aya started on Ken!   
  
Ken was the worst!  
  
He didn't just track in dirt, he tracked in mud too, and bits of grass, leaf litter, twigs, and whatever else he picked up while he was training with that little soccer team of his.  
  
Aya snorted in disgust. After a short pause in his contemplation he swung the broom around and attacked the floor with vigor.  
  
After using the hand broom to collect the smaller, more elusive pieces of leaves and grass, the redhead stepped back to survey his handiwork. The floor sparkled in the evening light and a tiny, barely noticeable smile of satisfaction crept across Aya's pale lips.  
  
Done and done.  
  
He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and letting his eyes slip shut.  
  
It was so peaceful with none of his other team mates around. Ken was out playing soccer with his kids, Yohji was out with some girl, and Omi was . . .   
  
Just a minute . . .  
  
Where was Omi?  
  
Aya opened his eyes slowly and frowned. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen much of Omi at all lately, which was unusual. The bright blue-eyed boy couldn't be avoided most of the time, he was always bouncing around or turning up, just when Aya really didn't need him to.   
  
But lately . . .  
  
Aya's frown deepened.  
  
There had been Ouka's death. That had set the boy back, depriving him of his energy and smiles, turning into a bitter reflection of the normally cheerful boy he was. However, Ken had helped Omi through that little tragedy by spending every waking hour with the boy, talking or laughing or just doing whatever made Omi happy and comfortable. Slowly, the colour returned to those pale cheeks, the blue eyes had brightened and a sense of normality crept back into the youngest assassin's actions. No, it wasn't Ouka's death - it was something else.  
  
He straighted, running a hand through his dark magenta locks. Lost in his silent thoughts, Aya didn't hear the click of the door as it opened, didn't notice Yohji shuffling in, mumbling something under his breath about women with a far off smile on his face, didn't notice Yohji calling out his name. He didn't even flinch as Yohji waved a hand in front of his face, lazily trying to gain the pale man's attention.  
  
What he did notice, however, was the grey sprinkling of cigarette ash that marred his clean floor.  
  
It was at that moment that Yohji wished that he hadn't had quite so much to drink, otherwise he might have seen the broom that hurtled through the air towards his unprotected head.

-------

Omi raised his head suddenly as a cry of pain floated around the Koneko, followed by an angry outburst from Aya. He smiled slightly, as a huge racket started up downstairs, Yohji's words slurring together as he desperately tried to figure out what exactly it was that he'd done to piss Aya off so much.  
  
"Here we go," Omi sighed. He grinned as the tormented shouts and violent accusations reached his ears. He loved it when Yohji came into his own. Serves him right for starting up that dreaded 'Omittichi' nickname! It made him feel even more like the young kid of the group, which was definitely not what he needed right about now. What made it even worse was that Ken-kun had started it too, although it sounded much nicer coming from Ken's sweet lips . . .  
  
The slight, blonde boy moaned and let his head drop to meet the desk he was sitting at. He'd been trying to focus on getting his chemistry homework finished before the deadline, which just happened to be tomorrow, but every time he went to write down a formula or conclusion or answer, or anything for that matter of fact, his mind would wander back to the claw-wielding assassin who had been haunting his dreams of late.  
  
He was unable to keep his thoughts from the older boy, from his beautiful teal coloured eyes to his dark chocolatey bangs, the way he accepted everyone around him and made them feel wanted and the way his smile brightened Omi's whole day. How one word would send shivers up and down his spine and make him long to hear that voice whispering the three words he wanted so badly to be said to him in the depths of the night . . .  
  
"Unnnn . . ." Omi moaned, raised his head a little, then let it drop back onto his desk with a dull thud.   
  
One small hand roamed the desk beside him, searching for his pen as he straightened up, determined to finish his chemistry that lay scattered on the desk before him when his eyes met the graffiti-covered pages. Ken's name spelt out in decorative kanji, some flowing gentle versions, other big and bold with small love hearts around them, spilling out over the pages of his assignment.  
  
_Aishiteru Ken-kun_ . . . in fluro pink highlighter marred the very center of the work he was trying so hard to focus on. Sighing, he ran a delicate finger over the kanji, a small blush spreading over his lightly tanned cheeks as he breathed the older boy's name in the silence of his room.  
  
"Ken-kun . . ."  
  
The blush deepened as he felt the heat start to rise within him, his mind wandering back to a certain incident, a few days earlier . . .

------  
  
Omi gasped, staggering under the heavy, terracotta pots he was carrying. His arms ached under the pressure and he felt sure that any minute now, they'd be ripped right out of their sockets.  
  
"Ugh, they're so heavy!" He complained to no one. "And just where are all those supposed workmates of mine when I need them? Especially Yohji-kun, he does nothing around here and expects everything in return! This is his shift too, so where the heck is he?! When I get my hands on him I'll . . . .WHOA . . . HEY!"  
  
Omi struggled vainly to get the swaying stack of pots back under his control, but to no avail. He staggered forward as the heavy pots toppled from his arms to smash loudly over the floor of the Koneko. Over balanced by the weight of the objects, Omi tripped, his arms failing wildly as he tried to keep himself upright before toppling over backwards himself.  
  
"AHHHHHHHH - huh?"   
  
Instead of the hard floor of the shop, Omi fell softly into a pair of strong arms that wrapped around his waist to stop him falling any further. Confused, he opened one eye just in time to see the forgotten soccer ball roll past his feet to rest softly among the remainder of the terracotta pots. A furious blush spread over Omi's cheeks as his eyes travelled down to see the darkly tanned arms wrapped comfortably about his waist.  
  
"Baka . . . " A soft voice chided in his ear, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck and making Omi's heart beat all the faster.  
  
Trying hard to calm his breathing, the blonde haired boy tipped his head back slightly to meet the laughing green eyes of his older teammate.  
  
He blushed deeper, desperately trying to word and apology. "Ken-kun! Ah, gomen, I couldn't - I couldn't carry them all by myself, and, well . . ." He waved a small hand at the mess in front of them as the brown-haired assassin started to laugh, his eyes sparkling in the dusky light that streamed in through the front windows of the closed shop.  
  
Omi's blush intensified more as he stared up at the older boy, his eyes drinking in the way the light played over his beautiful features, highlighted his hair and illuminated his dark eyes. Inwardly, he sighed, blissfully aware that Ken's arms were still wrapped tightly around his waist.  
  
"It's not that funny, Ken-kun." He pouted slightly.   
  
Ken, shook his head smiling. "You're right, it's hilarious! I'm surprised you weren't crushed to death by them!"   
  
He started to laugh again as Omi protested violently in his arms. "Hey! I'm not that delicate, you know! And if Yohji-kun had been helping me like he was supposed to - Oh! Aya-kun is going to be so mad with me, those pots are really expensive!"  
  
He bit his bottom lip in adorable worry, his hands wringing together as he imagined the look upon Aya's face when he saw the mess. That famous shi-ne stare of his was enough to make a grown man begin to doubt if he was going to live long enough to get a running start before the icy leader cut him down, and the thought of being on the receiving end of that gaze was not a pleasant one.  
  
Omi looked down at the shards of pottery glumly, "He's going to kill me."  
  
"Not if I have anything to say about it!"   
  
Omi glanced up at Ken, and flushed. "Thankyou, Ken-kun."  
  
And as Omi locked eyes with the older boy, he witnessed a barely noticeable blush beginning to form on Ken's tanned cheeks. The arms around his waist tightened in a reassuring squeeze, then, much to Omi's disappointment, they withdrew leaving the younger boy feeling a little cold. Large, lonely blue eyes followed the soccer player as he strolled across the room to the mess of terracotta, cluttering the normally clean floor of the Koneko, and as he knelt to pick up a single piece, Omi found himself scarcely able to breath.  
  
The lingering feeling of warmth from the way those arms had fit so well about his waist, combined with the image of the tanned youth, kneeling among the broken pots, fingers gently reaching to pick up the scattered shards, sun highlighting his chocolate coloured bangs, was enough to make tears form in the youngest assassin's eyes.  
  
_I adore you . . .   
_  
"Ken-kun . . ."  
  
The words were barely louder then a whisper, and Omi hardly even noticed that they had been spoken, but suddenly those warm teal eyes were gazing intently into his, and the boy's breath was stolen from him once again.  
  
"You okay, Omittichi?" Ken frowned slightly as he saw the tears forming in the younger boy's blue eyes.  
  
Omi hurriedly wiped at the offending drops with one hand, forcing himself to smile. "Hai, um . . . just worried about the pots that's all!" He gave a little laugh, using his sleeve to catch the last drops of his liquid sadness.  
  
The older boy's frown deepened slightly while he rose, a piece of the destroyed pottery still clutched tightly in one hand as he moved closer to Omi. "Look Omi, don't worry about the pots, or Aya for that matter, it was an accident, and I'll personally deal with anyone who says it wasn't, alright?" Slowly, the other hand rose to tenderly cup the younger boy's cheek, as he whispered, "Please don't cry anymore. I hate to see you upset."  
  
Ken's hand was resting softly on his cheek, it was Ken's voice telling him, in words that sent ripples warmth through his body, how he hated to see him upset. Ken's face was so close to his, that the brunette's warm breath ghosted over his neck making him feel weak in the knees. Ken's mouth was so close that if Omi leaned up just a little, their lips would brush gently-  
  
He almost passed out in sheer ecstasy.  
  
But the youngest assassin's pleasure was short-lived, as footsteps sounded in the hallway behind them driving the older boy to remove his hand and take one small step back. To Omi, that short distance may just have easily have been miles.  
  
_Don't go . . . Stay here, with me._  
  
Wrenching his eyes from Ken, he turned to greet whichever of the two of his remaining teammates passed through the door and into their little shop, praying for all that was good and holy in the world that it wasn't going to be Aya.  
  
Too bad for him that Kami was on vacation.  
  
Nonchalantly, the red head strolled through the doorway and into their Koneko carrying a bag of potting mix in his arms. For a split second, the youngest member of Weiss thought their fearsome leader had overlooked the terracotta mess on the floor as he placed the mix down heavily on the counter. He should have known that nothing escaped that piercing amethyst gaze, especially anything that dared to mark his hard-kept clean floor.  
  
As Aya opened the top of the bag and began to scoop out the soil into a pot containing a small lavender bush, he remarked in a conversational tone, "You have three seconds to explain why all our new pots are currently decorating the floor of this shop, instead of sitting on the shelf in the storeroom where they belong."  
  
Before Omi could even open his mouth a voice sounded out from behind him.  
  
"Uh, yeah, sorry 'bout that Aya, I was kicking the ball around and the pots kinda happened to get in the way. Sorry."  
  
Omi spun to look in disbelief at Ken. The brunette was smiling guiltily, scratching the back of his head with a one hand, the other resting on his hip as he glanced sheepishly at the mess still littering the polished wooden floor.  
  
_He's taking the blame . . . for me!?_  
  
Touched as he was by the soccer player's shouldering of the blame, the youngest assassin felt a telltale warmth spreading over his cheekbones as his conscience got the better of him. "Ken-kun . . . Aya-kun, it was my fault about the pots, you see . . ."  
  
"You see," Ken interrupted, shooting the younger boy a glance, "Omi was carrying them in to the storeroom, but my aim was a bit off so it bounced off the wall and knocked them out of his hands. You always tell me not to play soccer in the store, guess you were right, huh?"  
  
The brunette winked at Omi's disbelieving gape, placing one tanned finger to his lips in a hushing motion.  
  
Aya paused, turning his head slightly so he could observe the destroyed pottery, took note of the fact that Ken's soccer ball was nestled so conveniently among the broken shards and finally let his gaze wander to the piece of terracotta in the claw-wielding assassin's hand. Taking in the brunette's sheepish grin and Omi's raging blush he turned back to his work.  
  
"You realize that the expenses will be deducted from your paycheck, Hidaka?" He stated in an almost bored tone, taking little note of Omi's surprised gasp.  
  
Ken waved his hand lazily. "Yeah, sure. It's not like I have anything to spend that money on anyway."  
  
"Ken-kun, wh-"  
  
"C'mon Omittchi, let's go find the broom and clean up this mess."  
  
Taking a firm grip on the younger boy's arm, Ken dragged him out of the shop room and back into the normal living areas of the building away from their fiery headed leader.  
  
"Ken-kun . . . Ken, stop."  
  
The brunette halted his advance and turned to face the blue-eyed boy. It was very rare for Omi to forget to add the familiar 'kun' to the end of his name, and it worried him.   
  
Omi stared dejectedly at the floor, twisting his hands in front of him nervously refusing to meet Ken's teal coloured eyes.  
  
"I - I can't believe you just did that! Because of me, you've lost half of your paycheck this week and now Aya-kun's mad at you and, and - " He broke off into sobs, unable to get any more words out, touched by the brunette's generosity and angered at the pitiful attempt he made to defend himself. Covering his eyes with his hands, he fell to his knees in front of his stunned friend. Overwhelmed with guilt, which only helped to conflict with the feelings he was harboring toward Ken, the youngest member of Weiss cried his aching heart out.  
  
Ken was shocked. He'd only been helping the blond boy out of a sticky situation and now Omi had burst into tears and collapsed to the floor and he had no idea why, or what he should do. Seeing that slight frame racked with grief made him feel overly protective, and not knowing what else to do, knelt down by the crying boy and pulled him into an awkward embrace.

------

Omi grimaced, as he reached the part of the memory he was least fond of. The part where he had made Ken uncomfortable by crying hopelessly in his arms until he was exhausted, and the older assassin had carried him back to his room and put him to bed much to the younger boy's embarrassment.  
  
He sighed, then jumped slightly as the pen from his lax hand, slid through his fingers and hit the floor with a small clatter. It was soon picked up and placed back on the desk next to the incomplete homework.  
  
Leaning back over his chair, the slight blond stretched heartily, working the kinks out of his back as he let out a gentle yawn, rubbing at his large blue eyes with the back of one pale hand.  
  
Omi paused as he gazed over the wealth of graffiti once more, smiling slightly as he placed one slim finger on Ken's name then brought it gently to his own lips remembering the embrace in the Koneko a few days back. A small sigh escaped from his thoughts, breaking the silence around him and lifting him from his reprieve long enough for the boy to cover the colourful confessions of love with some loose papers, before padding softly over to the door  
  
_Sounds like Yohji and Aya have stopped fighting . . ._  
  
Then, making up his mind, Omi exited the room quietly, fully intent on making a quick trip to the kitchen before once more attempting his homework, not noticing that as he closed the door, the small draft disturbed the loose sheets of work and sent them fluttering gently to the floor, exposing the damning evidence of his lack of concentration, in all it's fluro pink glory, for all the world to see.

------

The rain bucketed down in torrents, splashing the sidewalks with crystalline drops and overflowing in the gutters. The afternoon had grown dark around four, ominous clouds littering the normally clear skies. Five minutes later and the rain began to fall, lightly at first then increasing in heaviness until the streets were emptied of people.  
  
Ken Hidaka sprinted the street, one tanned hand wrapped tightly around a much loved soccer ball the other shielding his eyes from the offending drops of water. Breathing heavily, he could just make out the Koneko building through the sheets of rain now pounding down onto the pavement around him and obscuring his vision.  
  
Reaching out his free hand, the brunette wrenched open one of the front doors, hurled himself inside and slammed the door tightly shut behind him. The elements continued to pound against the wood, but the old doors held strong and the soaking boy sighed in relief, the soccer ball hitting the floor with a juicy splat.  
  
"I'd mop up that water pretty quick."  
  
Ken looked over at Yohji who was eyeing the dripping soccer player skeptically from behind a trademark cigarette.  
  
"Why's that?" He asked, bending to retrieve his ball.  
  
"Because it provokes unnecessary acts of violence in a certain sword-wielding red head."   
  
Ken looked at the playboy, puzzled. "Y'mean Aya?"  
  
"Yep, found out the hard way and was nearly pummeled to death by a broom." The tall blonde reached up and pulled back the hair hanging in his eyes to reveal a nasty looking bruise forming just above his eyebrow.  
  
"Ouch," he winced. "Looks nasty, man."  
  
"It bloody well should. Hurts like crazy."  
  
He brought the cigarette back to his lips and watched the younger man retrieve a cloth from behind the counter to throw over the puddle in front of the door. While the brunette stamped on it to help the water be soaked up, he noticed that the sign in the window of the Koneko read: "Now Open" meaning the side facing the street was: "Closed."  
  
"Yohji, why's the shop closed so early?"  
  
The playboy shrugged. "Aya said no one would be stupid enough to risk driving in this weather."  
  
"So," Ken asked, "where's our fearless leader now?"  
  
Yohji smirked. "Went to visit his sister, of course."  
  
"Figures." The younger man laughed, as he finished cleaning the floor and deposited the cloth back under the counter. "By the way, have you seen Omi lately?"  
  
The blonde looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "Nope, must be hiding up in his room again, which, now I come to think of it, he's been doin' a lot lately, why?"  
  
"Ah, no reason." But the light blush that spread across Ken's tanned cheeks did not go unnoticed by the older assassin, and he smirked as the soccer player headed upstairs to find his younger friend.

------

Ken walked slowly down the hall, pulling his soaking jersey over his head as he did, revealing a toned, lean stomach. Using the article of clothing to mop the water dripping into his eyes from his hair, the brunette began mulling over his plan for the evening.  
  
Ever since the flower pot incident, Omi had been trying to pay Ken back every chance he got, even though the older boy had told him repeatedly that he didn't need to and that he really didn't use his money on anything special anyway, the young blonde had insisted. So tonight, Ken was out to see if he could convince Omi to leave his pile of homework for a while in favour of grabbing a pizza with him.  
  
The younger boy would look up from his work expectantly as Ken stuck his head into his friend's room. He'd remark casually that he felt like going out for pizza and Omi's eyes would light up, lips lifting into that heart-stopping smile and he'd say that he was thinking the exact same thing. Then, the blond assassin would throw himself into soccer player's arms, and they'd be locked in a tight embrace until one of them took the initiative to find the others eyes so they would be drawn inexorably into one another, and in one final breathtaking moment, their lips would meet gently . .   
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
Ken sighed, hands falling from drying his messy chocolate-coloured hair, to rest as his side. Leaning back against the wall of the corridor, he gazed down at his dripping jersey a guilty blush forming across his cheeks. He felt terrible for taking advantage of Omi's generosity just so he could spend more time with the beautiful boy who his whole world seemed to center around these days.  
  
He couldn't remember when he'd first started falling for the younger boy who was his closest friend. The two had been the first original members of Weiss and through the time they'd spent together a bond had formed between them that he just couldn't seem to establish with the other two members of their little band of assassins. Maybe it was just because they were both open and friendly people, maybe because back then they had just been two lost, lonely boys who had seen a little of themselves in each other. Whatever it was, it had become the single thread that made being in Weiss worth the pain and bloodshed, and now, for Ken, that thread was beginning to twist different ways, turn different colours and almost radiate the need to expand.  
  
Lately, he found that he just couldn't keep his mind of the cute, genki assassin. Whenever Omi entered the room it seemed like his heart started to beat a little faster, whenever the boy was around he couldn't help the goofy grin that crept across his lips, or the slight blush across his cheeks. It was Omi's smile, Omi's laugh, the way he cheered everyone up without trying, his dedication to his work (both school and Kritiker), his blue eyes and baby soft blonde hair, his pale skin, his voice, his . . . touch.  
  
With a jerk, Ken brought himself back to reality.   
  
_Stop that, you've come to ask Omi out for Pizza . . . as a friend._  
  
With that thought firmly in mind, Ken strolled the final ten steps down the corridor and knocked on the door in front of him.  
  
Silence.  
  
Surprised, he pushed the door open. "Hey Omi, you there?"  
  
Nothing but the sound of rustling paper. Opening the door wider, Ken stepped inside to see a few sheets of paper settling on the carpet at the foot of Omi's desk.  
  
_Great, now I've gone and opened the door too fast and messed up his homework. Nice work Hidaka, real smooth._  
  
Shaking his head, he quickly crossed the room and picked up the loose sheets of paper, hoping to find out where they belonged before Omi returned from . . .wherever he was. Papers in hand, he moved to the desk deciding it might be safer just to leave them in a pile on the desk and explain to the boy what happened later when something large and pink caught his eye, especially since it was scrawled all over what looked like a science paper of some sort. Teal coloured eyes roamed the assignment, and froze.  
  
_Aishiteru Ken-kun . . ._

_------  
_  
Omi Tsukiyono walked down the corridor toward his room, stomach rumbling. Thanks to Yohji's laziness the daily grocery trip hadn't occurred, so both fridge and pantry were bare of anything that didn't have an expiry date of two years ago. Perhaps he could convince Ken to grab a pizza with him, under the pretence that he was paying him back for the pots.  
  
He blushed, feeling a little guilty. Sure they were friends, but they didn't go out much together so pretending that he was repaying Ken for all the broken flower pots was a good excuse to spend more time with the older boy.  
  
Pulling himself back into the present, he tore his gaze from the patterning in the carpet to reach out and grab his doorknob, only to discover that his door was already open and someone was inside.  
  
His blood turned to ice when he saw Ken, frozen by his desk, holding his chemistry assignment in one hand reading the confessions of love that were spread all over it.  
  
"No . . ."

------  
  
_Aishiteru Ken-kun . . ._  
  
A warm feeling was starting to spread through his body. There, spilling over the pages before him was his name written over and over again in different styles of kanji, some decorated with small hearts, others with delicate pictures of freesia and gentian intertwined. And right in the middle, I love you, Ken-kun.  
  
His heart had either stopped or was beating so fast he was no longer able to separate one beat from another. Judging by the grin that was threatening to take hold of his face he reckoned it was the second. Omi loved him. Omi loved him. He felt like throwing the window open and shouting it down the street, the feeling was so intense.  
  
_Omi loves me . . ._  
  
"No . . . "  
  
That one word dispelled all his illusions like wind scatters a fog. Turning, he caught sight of the shocked boy in the doorway, eyes wide, one small hand over his mouth, tears threatening to fall.  
  
"No . . . y-you weren't meant to see that. No one was m-meant to see that, it was my secret - " Choking on his words, Omi collapsed against the door frame feeling sick to the stomach.  
  
He saw! He saw it, and now he'll never speak to me again! He's probably disgusted by the thought of another boy liking him, and so he should be. It's not normal, I'm not normal, I don't deserve to love him . . . but I do. Ken-kun -   
  
Omi's rambling thoughts were cut off as the older boy crossed the room in three strides, and took one of his pale shaking hands into those tan ones. Still trapped in a haze of denial, the blonde assassin refused to look at the soccer-player standing quietly in front of him and continued to sob hopelessly. "I'm s-so sorry, Ken-kun . . ."  
  
A gentle touch under his chin forced him to look up at the object of his affection. Through a curtain of tears, Omi barely had time to register the warm smile on the Ken's face before the brunette pulled the younger boy toward him. Blue eyes widened as a warmth gushed over his tear-stained cheeks. Gentle kisses, drinking up the spilt sadness, were littering his face, and stealing his breath from him.  
  
Ken was kissing him!?   
  
Just when his confusion almost reached breaking point, the slight blonde felt a softness engulf his lips and capture his soul. Ken's lips were hard upon his, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his stunned body, moving gently to coax the younger boy into doing the same. Still unable to comprehend what was happening, Omi opened his mouth slightly allowing Ken's tongue to slip inside and tangle sweetly with his own. Small arms reached up to wrap around the older boy's neck, one hand entangling itself in those soft, chocolate locks, as Omi pulled that gorgeous body closer to his.  
  
The heat that coursed between them was unbelievable, and soon, Omi's back was hard against the wall, tanned hands wandering over his face, his back, his chest, slipping up inside his shirt to ghost over his pale skin. Breaking the kiss, Omi threw his head back and moaned as those skilled hands pulled their bodies closer together, burying themselves in each other.  
  
"I love you."  
  
It was the barest whisper against his ear, but it was all that he needed to jerk back to reality. Ken pulled back when those slim arms fell from around his neck, palms trailing over his chest then coming to rest by his own hands, grasping them gently. Looking at the younger boy, he saw the previous tears had vanished and those expressive sky-blue eyes were staring up at him with a tenderness he'd never seen before.  
  
Omi raised one hand to reach it tenderly against his lover's tanned cheek. "Do you really, Ken-kun? Do you really love me?"  
  
"Yes." Such a simple word, but it was heavy with emotion, and Ken blushed slightly as he spoke it, embarrassed by the obvious feeling behind it, but unable to stop smiling at the younger boy whose eyes had lit up like the morning sky. "You take my breath away, do you know that?"  
  
With a small cry, the smaller boy threw himself into the brunette's arms, pressing his lips feverishly against Ken's. "I . . . love you . . . too!" He managed to whisper between the hot kisses, feeling his lover's arms wrap tightly around his small waist.  
  
"I've noticed," the older boy replied, pulling back from Omi's lips so he could see his younger lover's face, "so much so that it might be dangerous for your school work."  
  
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the vandalised schoolwork, holding it up for the younger boy to see.  
  
Blushing, Omi disengaged himself from his lover to take the chemistry homework from him and walked across his bedroom to place it back on his desk, talking over his shoulder as he went. "Yes, well, you are a distraction Ken-kun, albeit a nice looking one."  
  
Ken grinned, and lent against the door frame observing his honey blonde lover as he packed his homework back into his bag, and jumped on the empty desk to face his lover, crossing his legs and leaning back in an appraising sort of way. "Say Ken-kun, what were you doing in my room just before?"  
  
The soccer player crossed the room to the younger boy. "I was going to ask you out for pizza, " he grinned as Omi wrapped his arms his neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss, "but I guess we could just order in."  
  
Omi grinned up at the older boy, his heart almost bursting with happiness. He had everything he'd ever wanted. He had the guy of his dreams right here in front of him, holding him tight, who loved him, who wanted to be with him, and who took his breath away.   
  
_Ken-kun . ._   
  
"Definitely."

------  
  
Das Ende  
  
**Author's Ending Nonsense:**  
  
TADA! Well, wadda ya think? I know . . . fluffy and sappy but hey, this is a fanfiction. It's allowed to be like that, ne? I love this couple too, they're so kawaii! Ken x Omi 4EVA!!! I just can't wait to see the OAV and Gluhen . . . someday --. Anyhow, thanx to shinjiaida for his drama rambles and dvd player, my friend fi for drooling over Orphen, Kenshin and Kyou with me and for laughing with me until we cried (and couldn't stop) over weiss' english dub outakes, Jim for weiss kreuz raves when we're actually supposed to be doing our art (Jess for exactly the same reason! - plus, gushing over millions of kenomi fics with me! - Jim won't do that - she's a shudder ranken fan) and for humouring me when I drew "Schwarz Takes over Ancient Civs" which later expanded into "Schwarz Takes over Ancient Civs with the Help of a Whole Heap of other Anime Characters", M for helping me get stuck on Vampire Princess Miyu, Spirited Away and Witch Hunter Robin (u r like the little sister I never had, love you 2!), Keito-san for her insightful conversations over the finer details of Evangelion and for holding anime nights where a group of us stared at the widescreen tv until 6 in the morning! (man I was tired the next day --) and for working out that it would take fifteen days (probably more by now) of nonstop watching to view all the anime we owned between us, to my anime crazed cousin Dannielle bows you are my constant inspiration - stop sending me those horrible fics!, and all the other Anime Otaku's out there. I love you all! (specially those who like the Ken/Omi pairing )   
  
It's nice to know that I'm not alone in this world! Oh, and please review - (hopeful, teary eyes) Annnnd, that's enough from me. looks at ramble and grins sheepishly  
  
OWARI   
  
P.S - If you want to talk ken/omi, weiss, gravitation, fruits basket (which totally rox!) or you just want a chat with a 17 yr old girl whose far too hyped up on anime to be any help to anyone at all, you can mail me! I'd love to hear from you guys!!  
  
weisssiberianhotmail.com (dot would be me email address, go it? Koolio!)


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